


My Sun, Only in Winter

by Anonymous_Ostrich



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Crossing Timelines, Future Plans, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pillow Talk, ends ten years later during Inquisition, mild Inquisition spoilers?, plans falling apart, starts before the landsmeet, what if the Warden consulted Zevran before doing Morrigan's ritual
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-08
Updated: 2015-11-08
Packaged: 2018-04-30 13:10:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5165015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anonymous_Ostrich/pseuds/Anonymous_Ostrich
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's so easy to get swept up in love and passion, and so hard to hang onto it when the world is thrown into chaos. Sometimes planning the future - even when there might not be one - can ease the hurt. A house in the mountains. Sometimes just the thought is enough.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Sun, Only in Winter

**Author's Note:**

> (Sorry in advance for any and all non-canon descriptions of Zevran, I used a mod in my playthrough:)
> 
>   
>  [](http://tinypic.com?ref=10xeyl1)   
>    
> 

A light breeze gently beat the sides of Elio's tent, a welcome reprieve from the unusually warm night. Twin moons were nestled on the horizon, illuminating the path they were to take tomorrow to Denerim. From behind him, Elio's tent opened and someone shuffled inside, inviting in the breezy night air which disrupted the lit candle he was using for light. A smile pulled at the side of Elio's mouth, though his eyes did not leave the parchment.

"I do hope that's you, Zev, and not some assassin who might actually _succeed_ in killing me."

An exaggerated gasp. "You _wound_ me, ser. I came here to give you the pleasure of my company, and this is what I get? Cheap insults?"

Elio chuckled. "Forgive me, I couldn't help myself." He turned to Zevran and grabbed his arm to pull him closer, kissing him fleetingly on the mouth. Zevran half-heartedly shoved Elio's shoulder, frowning.

"I'll have you know I have _never_ missed a hit. Well, except for you. But I got you in the end anyway, so I'll consider that a win."

"I'm a win for you?" Elio asked, amused.

"Well. Mostly. Only when you're _not_ taking unflattering jabs at my pride." Zevran hung on Elio's shoulder, glancing at the parchment he was scrawling on. "What are you writing?"

Elio halted his pen. "Just my thoughts. We'll be at the Landsmeet tomorrow, and there are many worries pressing on my mind. I thought I should relieve them before going to sleep."

Sliding his hand over Elio's to pull his hand away from the paper, Zevran flashed the Grey Warden a sly smile. "I know of much better ways to 'relieve' your worries, _mi amor_. I'm sure you will find them much more enjoyable than writing."

Relenting to his lover and dropping the pen, Elio turned to gaze at the elf in faux ignorance. "Surely I don't know of this method you speak of. Perhaps showing me would be better…?"

.

.

.

The candle had long since snuffed out. The wind outside howled through the trees, the tent doing well to keep out the cold. For some time Elio drifted in and out of sleep, trying to stay awake if only to watch Zevran sleep. When next he opened his eyes, he found Zevran looking back at him, his face oddly stony and his eyes focused.

Zevran propped himself up on his elbows, looking down at Elio's face wearing an uncharacteristically serious expression. Elio rubbed his face, resting his arms behind his head.

"What is it?"

"Let's run away together." Zevran stared at Elio without so much as a blink or a twitch of his lips. "Let's leave this war. Forget everyone else. We'll find somewhere to hide, somewhere far away from the Blight to live out the rest of our days together. Think of it: making love every day, killing things in our spare time or getting plump and lazy… Just the two of us."

Elio nearly wasn't sure how to respond. His lips opened but no sound came out. He'd never heard Zevran say something like this before, something so spontaneously romantic and irresponsible in the same breath. The part that shocked Elio the most was how appealing it sounded. How good it felt to have a selfish thought.

Zevran sputtered into soft laughter, crossing his ankles behind him in the air. "What if I said something like that to you? Ridiculous, no?"

"You were kidding?" Elio asked with a shallow laugh. "Ah… Ridiculous, yes. And… wonderful. Not without a dash of temptation."

Zevran tilted his head. "You would never abandon the people, or this war. I know that well." He smiled. " _Temptation_ , you say? Do tell, Grey Warden."

"Did you not say it because the thought was tempting to you? Or were you strictly having a joke with me?"

The smile on Zevran's face faded somewhat, becoming more distant. "Of course it's tempting. Impossible, but tempting."

Elio sat up, pulling up his knees to rest his arms on them. "Zev… Is everything alright? I'm not used to you… talking like this. You're speaking as though it's the end of everything. The end of us."

Zevran's striking orange eyes flicked to the blankets under them. His shoulder blades swelled and dropped with a deep breath. "The closer we get to the landsmeet, to the end of all of this... " He sighed again, dropping his head between his shoulders. "I'm sorry. I was trying to cheer you up and here I am, bringing you down."

"Zev, I want you to talk to me. Don't worry about how I feel. I want to know what you're thinking, what _you_ are feeling." Elio sought out one of Zevran's hands, giving it a squeeze. "Please?"

The Elf sucked his lips into his mouth, shaking some platinum hair away from his face. "I've been wondering… what the point of it all is." As he spoke, Elio crossed his legs and sat beside Zevran. "There was a time when I did not care if I lived or died. I had preferred to die, as you know. After meeting you, those thoughts began to change in my mind. I've loved… _loving_ you. The reality is starting to hit me. I don't want to lose you. I don't want to die, either. Now that I've fallen in love with you, I find myself having rather selfish impulses, you see?" He masked his pain with a smile.

Elio was silent for a few moments, holding tight to Zevran's hand. Finally he released him to grab Zevran's chin, gently tilting it up to kiss him. He pulled away, keeping his face close.

"Zev… I have no plans to die, and I have absolutely no intention of losing you, either."

Zevran smirked. "I know you don't."

Elio traced the side of Zevran's face with his fingers. "In times like these, too many people dwell on death and the possibility of defeat to think about the future." He slipped his fingers into Zevran's wild blonde hair. "I want a future with you, Zev. This isn't a fling for me, my love for you won't change after the war. Let's talk about the future."

Zevran stared at Elio with wide eyes, his lips forming a small and beautiful 'o'. He pushed himself up to sit on his knees, his eyes locked onto Elio's. "You want to talk about our future…?" he asked softly. "As in, yours and mine?"

"Who else's?" Elio asked with a chuckle. "There's no one else I could possibly want a future with. But it's something we should decide together." Noticing Zevran's rather stricken expression, Elio's smile faded in concern. "Unless… Maybe that doesn't sound like a good idea…?"

Zevran pounced at Elio and tossed his arms around his neck, hugging him tightly and knocking both of them to the ground, their legs tangling in the blankets. "Of _course_ it does, you stupid, beautiful man," Zevran said with a tearful laugh. "Yes, I want to talk about our future… Let's do that. Anything at all."

Coiling his arms around his lover's nude body, Elio held him close, nuzzling his nose into Zevran's hair. "I was thinking of maybe settling down somewhere, but I wondered if you would want to live that sort of life."

"A house?" Zevran asked, unable to mask his sniffles. "I've never had a house before. I like the sound of it. We could still travel, couldn't we?"

"Of course. Let's see everything we can together." Elio rolled the two of them gently on their sides, sliding his leg between Zevran's. "Let's build the house ourselves. Somewhere far away from cities, the mountains maybe."

Zevran laughed. "Building a house sounds like a lot of work."

"It does, doesn't it?" Elio kissed Zevran's neck. "Could be fun, though."

"Maybe you could do the work, and I could oversee. You know, to make sure you are doing it all properly."

" _You…_ "

Zevran finally pulled away enough to smile at Elio, his cheeks glistening with messy tears. "Hey, I'll have you know that labor management is _essential_ in building a stable structure! Without order, everything would just fall apart."

Raking his hands through Zevran's hair, Elio kissed his cheeks, his forehead and then his mouth. "Perhaps we'll hire some hands to help us, then. Have you ever been to the mountains?"

"Never. Strangely enough, you don't find many hits up in the mountains. Too much climbing, one might assume." Zevran smiled, sliding his hands over Elio's muscular chest. "I would not know what to expect."

"Would you rather live somewhere else? Somewhere closer to a city, or-"

"If I'm with you, anywhere is fine." Zevran said, kissing Elio earnestly. Elio teasingly prodded Zevran's reemerging arousal with his knee, and Zevran groaned gleefully. They parted breathlessly; Elio held Zevran's head in his hands and pressed their foreheads together.

"A house in the mountains… Travelling… We'll hire someone to cook for us, since we're both hopeless at it…" He kissed Zevran again. "Making love everyday…" Again. "Lazy days of reading books and hunting…" Again, longer this time. "You and me, together until we're old and bent and grey."

A laugh-sob tumbled from Zevran's lips, more tears pooling in his beautiful eyes. "I want that." He circled his arms around Elio's neck again, hugging him tightly. "I really want that…!"

"It's a promise, then," Elio said, holding his lover tightly. "Imagining our future together makes me want to fight harder, Zev. I'll make sure we come out of this alive. Every time I think of our house up in the mountains, I feel sure I will be able to strike down any foe."

"Good. You'd better mean that, you know. I want to see you driving your blade deep into the Arch-demon's putrid heart while I put an arrow right between his eyes."

"I promise." Elio kissed Zevran amorously, flipping him onto his back and straddling him. "Now, enough about that. The only thing I want to think about is you and me together in this tent, and the only thing I want to feel is your skin against mine."

Zevran grinned, bucking teasingly against his lover. "You know, if the Blight is good for anything, it's inspiring you to go _three times_ in a row. Can't complain, really."

.

.

.

What he'd assumed to be a Grey Warden-style pep talk with Riordan ended up being much more grim than Elio had anticipated. Both he and Alistair left Riordan's room in low spirits, both of them burdened with the knowledge of the true nature of the Grey Wardens and the realization that one of them would be relinquishing their life to destroy the archdemon on the morrow.

As he wandered back to his room, Elio debated on whether or not to tell Zevran what he'd learned. If he really thought about it, he couldn't risk distracting Zevran with such information. Although Riordan had offered to take the final blow if he was able, Elio knew that was a big 'if'; there was no guarantee things would work out that way, and Elio knew if it was between him and Alistair, he would take the blow for his friend without a second thought. Even if it meant leaving Zevran behind. Wasn't this always the risk? Had anything really changed?

Elio's mind grasped furiously for the future he and Zevran had planned together. He supposed something had changed, after all. He promised Zevran he would fight to survive. He told him that their future together would help him bring down any foe. How could he keep his promise when he knew his death may be unavoidable? Necessary, even?

His mind spinning and his guilt and worry chewing at his insides like a starving rat, Elio opened the door of his room, sighing. "Sorry that took so long, Zev. There was much… to…"

Morrigan was the only occupant in his room, standing in front of the blazing fireplace. Her head turned to flick her damnable knowing amber eyes in his direction.

"Do not be alarmed. It is only I."

.

.

.

He couldn't. He _wouldn't_. Elio's mind was in turmoil, more so than when he'd been told he might be absorbing the archdemon's soul tomorrow afternoon. Morrigan had been clear and concise about what needed to be done to avoid this fate - the fate he shared with Alistair and Riordan - but he couldn't accept it so readily. Though Morrigan had advised against it, Elio had asked her to leave his chambers so that he might talk to Zevran before coming to a decision. She tried to talk him out of it, reasoning that Zevran was the _most_ important reason to follow through with the ritual; Elio would not relent. Warning him that time was short, she respectfully left to give him his time.

Some ten minutes later, Zevran slipped into the room, tapping a bottle of wine against his thigh.

"It took some persuading and unexpected flattery, but I snagged us a bottle of their best wine." he said with a flippant smile. He dance-walked to the bed, plopping himself down beside Elio. "No glasses, though. One might assume that is because I _stole_ the wine, because really, who wouldn't provide glasses with such fine wine? I didn't steal it, though. Definitely not." Expertly yanking the cork from the bottle, Zevran smelled the wine, letting out a content sigh. "Even if I _did_ steal the wine, it isn't as though they don't have a _whole cellar_ full of wine, you know. They would never miss it. And then there's the whole 'going to war' thing we're doing tomorrow, so really, they should be giving the wine away for _free_ , shouldn't they?" He took a swig, wiping his mouth. "Hah… Good stuff. I _did_ steal it, by the way. Unless that doesn't turn you on. Then I asked for it. _Politely_."

"Pass that over here," Elio said, smiling. He took a long drink, the taste stale on his tongue. He passed it back to Zevran. "I think I can forgive theft on the eve of the battle."

"That's a relief." He tilted his head in mock thought. "Or is it? I might have wanted you to punish me a little. Pity."

It was chaos in Elio's mind. He'd wanted nothing more than to have a blissful night of passion with his lover before they marched head-first into a horde of demons, but it was impossible after learning what he had. It was almost _worse_ now that Morrigan had provided him a way out. Previously, it seemed like there was nothing to be done about his possible fate. Now, he felt more pressured than ever to tell Zevran what was going on. How could he possibly come to a decision without consulting his lover first?

"Elio?" Zevran's voice pulled Elio out of his troubled thoughts. "Is everything alright? Ah… Allow me to take that back, yes? I _know_ everything's not alright… but… it seems like there is something specific that has you troubled."

Elio rose his gaze to meet Zevran's. "Zev… There are some things I need to tell you."

.

.

.

Zevran had taken to pacing in front of the fireplace, his knuckles at his teeth. After Elio had explained everything and answered some of Zevran's questions, Zevran had fallen into a thoughtful, anxious silence. Elio left him to it, sitting at the edge of the bed, head bowed.

"To summarize…" Zevran finally said, stopping in front of Elio, "...if you deliver the finishing blow on the archdemon, his soul will fly into you and… _kill_ you."

"Yes." Elio answered.

"Morrigan knew this, and that beautiful, enchanting she-devil decided not to tell you."

"Would we have believed her?" Elio asked.

"Morrigan has a solution to the problem, which is to have _sex_ with her and _impregnate_ her, so that her unborn fetus can absorb the archdemon's soul instead, which would potentially save your life."

"Y-yes."

Zevran walked back to the bed, sitting next to Elio, bracing his hands on his knees. "I can't believe you're even hesitating, Elio." His voice was an unexpectedly low rumble. He turned his eyes on Elio, his expression furious. "What the _fuck_ is wrong with you?"

"Wh- wait, what?" Elio wasn't quite sure which bit Zevran was angry about.

Zevran turned to Elio, grabbing his shoulders. "If there is even a _chance_ that you'll be saved, why are you hesitating to take it?"

Elio blinked. "I… I couldn't just do something like that without getting your opinion first! We're talking about laying with Morrigan, and _impregnating_ her. I couldn't-"

Zevran shook Elio's shoulders sharply, jostling him. His face was pink with fury and his eyes were brimming with shimmering tears. "Do you think I would be _jealous_ at a time like this? Did you think I might _forbid_ you?! Could you really be that idiotic?!"

Elio grabbed hold of Zevran's arms calmingly, worry searing through his chest like a knife. " _Maker_ , Zev! Why are you so angry? I couldn't do something like that with her without talking it through first! I never thought you would… I mean, I didn't…" Zevran released Elio's shoulders, turning away to hide his tears. Elio stared down at his hands. "I couldn't think, Zev. Everything happened so fast, I felt so miserable… I knew the risks yesterday, I thought I knew what to expect, but in the last hour I've learned I might never have had a chance. And then Morrigan… I was confused. I wasn't thinking. I never…. _never_ meant to imply that you would rather I died… I'm sorry."

"No, I…" Zevran brushed his hand over his mouth, his shoulders trembling. "I had no right to get so angry. You've just learned something terrible and I…" He wiped his eyes and chuckled. "The only thing I'm bitter about is that Morrigan will get to have you the night before the battle. I was planning on giving you a pleasure so incredible you'd _have_ to make it back to me no matter what." He chuckled dryly.

Elio gently turned Zevran toward him. Zevran put up no resistance, his knee bumping Elio's. The Grey Warden wrapped his arms around his Elf and pulled him into a firm embrace, burying his face in Zevran's neck. "I _will_ come back to you, I swear it. And you had better do the same."

Hugging him back tightly, Zevran breathed a deep sigh into Elio's shoulder. "Our house up in the mountains, remember?"

"How could I forget?" Elio answered.

Zevran pulled Elio down on top of him, loosening his grip around Elio's neck. They kissed, slow and sweet. Elio's stomach constricted painfully. He realized this might be the last time he could kiss Zevran like this, the last time he could feel his warm body underneath his. He hated that his last night before the battle would have to be spent in the arms of someone else.

Elio pulled away, looking down at Zevran with a furrowed brow. "Does it not bother you? What I will have to do with Morrigan?"

Zevran touched Elio's face, tracing his fingers over the Grey Warden's lips like a whisper. "If it can save your life, no. Not a bit. Sex doesn't mean anything."

"What if she's lying…?" Elio asked.

"If there's even a possibility of being saved, you have to try. Besides, what possible motive could she have? If she could trick any one of us into having sex with her, why not pursue Zevran, the most handsome, charismatic, well-endowed member of our company, eh?" Zevran smirked flirtatiously. "Though, if I find out she just wanted to bed you, I might have to punch her. Repeatedly. With my knife."

"I got that," Elio laughed, feeling a familiar swelling of affection for his Elven assassin. "And when you put it like that… I don't suppose she would do something like that for no real reason, after all."

"More than likely, no."

"I suppose now, the immediate issue is: how can I possibly get _worked up_ enough to…?"

Zevran smirked and prodded his knee gently against Elio's groin. He tightened his hold around Elio's neck, breathing hot against his lips. "Work, work work. The things I do for you, _honestly…_ "

.

.

.

The night was so quiet, so serene, one never would have assumed a silent army of assassins was creeping along in the shadows just outside the ruined tower. The tower hadn't provided much cover or safety the last couple of nights, but it sat precariously in the center of Giant territory in a hidden glen and had been difficult to track. It had taken two nights to be found. Zevran would be lying if he said he wasn't disappointed. _He_ would have been able to find their camp in no more than eight hours, Giant territory or no.

Zevran sat perched in the intact tower window a moment more before nimbly hopping to the ground, stepping into the next room. Elio sat with his back to him, busily scrawling a pen across parchment.

"Elio, they are close, it won't be long now. We should be going."

Elio's pen continued to scribble over the page, drawing close to the bottom of the parchment. "Nearly done."

"Who could you be writing to at a time like this?" Zevran asked with a sideways grin, crossing his arms.

"Inquisitor Lavellan." Elio answered, jotting down his signature before setting down his pen and carefully folding the parchment, slipping it into his pack. "Leliana managed to track us down somehow, so I thought I would at least respond."

"That woman scares me in the best way," Zevran said fondly. "Had she walked a different path in life, she could have become the most _amazing_ assassin. Amazing in a terrifying, 'murdering great leaders' and 'becoming the most feared woman in Ferelden' kind of way. Though I suppose a spymaster isn't much different."

Elio stood up, tying his satchel to his belt. "Which direction are they coming from?" he asked. Zevran jabbed a thumb Southward.

"They'll be upon us in minutes."

Elio closed off the distance between them, raising a hand to cup Zevran's face. "Do we have a moment for a kiss?"

Zevran smirked. "I think I can _squeeeze_ in extra time for that. We _may_ risk an ambush, but you know, that's a risk I'm simply willing to take."

Their lips met, ten years familiar with one another, gentle and sweet like rainwater. Elio drew away, his breath ghosting over Zevran's parted lips. "You are my sun, and my stars."

"Always the flatterer," Zevran accused with a grin, although his cheeks dusted rose. He stole another kiss from his Warden. "Te amo, mi amor." Another kiss, fleeting and passionate. "Alright, alright. Enough of this before you get us both killed."

"You said the risk was worth it," Elio accused, smiling.

"I did. I also said we should drink that entire bottle of West Hill Brandy two nights ago. It's not always a tremendously smart idea to listen to me."

"Noted." Elio pecked Zevran's mouth one last time before turning to head toward the back exit. "Let's go then, before they invite themselves in. I'm not in the mood to fight off a small army."

Zevran followed Elio closely, chuckling. "Oh come now, there are only ten of them at the most. Surely you're not too old to take on a measly ten assassins?"

"Ah, but would you still love me if I was?" Elio asked, hopping out of the broken arch behind the tower and landing in an overgrown glen bathed in blotches of moonlight, a canopy of trees shielding them from sight. Zevran dropped down after him, spinning his knives expertly in his hands.

"That is the goal, is it not?" he said with a grin. "Together until we're old and bent and grey?"

"That's right. House in the mountains," Elio answered, remembering their promise from long ago. It was a promise he would always hold onto. Both of them knew the darkspawn blood running through Elio's veins would more than likely kill him before he reached middle age. It was a grim truth that neither of them chose to acknowledge. They had been through enough to know how lucky they were to still be together after all this time. Elio refused to relinquish the one good thing in his life on the speculation that it wouldn't last forever. However long he had, it was long enough.

Zevran clicked his tongue. "We've been spotted, it seems," he said. Dark figures were swiftly moving over the grass toward them, spreading out in well-trained formation, weapons at the ready. Zevran sighed. "You and your romantic whims, mi amor. Let it be known that I was _firmly_ against getting frisky, you villain!"

Elio drew his sword, grinning. "I suppose I'll pay for this later, won't I?"

" _Oooh_ yes," Zevran purred, casting stealth and vanishing from sight. "Provided we both survive this most harrowing encounter, you should expect something in the form of naked revenge. There may or may not be wine and _intense_ lovemaking involved."

"I'll just have to survive and find out," The Grey Warden laughed.

**Author's Note:**

> I had this written before I played Inquisition, but after getting the 'contact Hero of Ferelden' war table mission and seeing that Zevran and the Warden were STILL together after all that time, I felt compelled to write an additional scene to wrap it up. These two give me so many feelings T_T


End file.
